


Variable Undefined

by LemonLou13



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, F/M, Human squip, gangster au, kind of follows the musical plot but eeeehhh??, mentions some book characters but only in passing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11452953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonLou13/pseuds/LemonLou13
Summary: Or, The Ever Changing Life of a 1930's GangsterThe year is 1932. Much like the rest of the United States, the Great Depression has hit Metuchen, New Jersey hard. Jeremy Heere is just trying his best to survive, turning his home into a boarding house to stay afloat in the crippled economy.But, when a notorious gangster rents a room, Jeremy catches a glimpse into the heinous world of crime that's started lurking in Metuchen. Will he ever be able to return to a normal life, or will the siren song of money and power be too tempting for Jeremy to resist?





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Special shout out to the Discord Chat for encouraging this work!  
> I hope y'all like it!!

_**Metuchen Weekly Post** _

_Volume 1707                          Sunday. Oct, 16, 1932_

**_Six Injured, Two Dead in Latest Case of Serial Arson_ **

“Jesus Christ.” Jeremy dropped the newspaper onto the kitchen table and rubbed a hand over his face. This was not the kind of news he wanted to wake up to. With a sigh, he picked the paper up again and read the rest of the article. Jeremy gave a derisive snort as his eyes scanned the page. The police were attributing the recent string of arsons to the infamous Ipkovich Gang. The band of criminals had everything from bank robbery to murder under their belt. The last time the gang had been spotted, they’d robbed a bank in New York City and skipped town. Rumor had it that they were fleeing through New Jersey, and had made a stop in Metuchen on their way down state.

Jeremy wasn’t sure he believed that. The city was full of the homeless and hungry since the crash in ‘29, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine a few angry citizens expressing their anger through crime. Besides, why the hell would a gang with such an extensive track record hide out in a place like Metuchen, New Jersey? They could have gotten lost in the bigger cities farther south with ease. It just didn’t make sense.

A noise startled Jeremy out of his thoughts. Someone was knocking on the door. He sighed and stood up, giving a languid stretch before he swung open the front door. “Oh- Michael!” A warm smile painted his face and he stepped aside to allow his friend in the house. “What brings you by?”

Michael grinned in return and held up two glass bottles of milk. “I thought you might like to have these.”

“Woah!” Jeremy marveled at the bottles, taking them to store in the icebox. “Where did you get that? No one has been able to get their hands on milk around here for _months_.” Another side effect of the Depression: things like milk, fresh produce, or sugar were in high demand but almost impossible to afford. Hell, just a plain loaf of bread could cost an arm and a leg. And yet somehow, Michael always managed to show up with things like milk, or peaches, or chocolate for Jeremy to stash away in the kitchen.

“I have my sources,” Michael’s reply was playfully smug, as he followed Jeremy into the kitchen and sat down. “So, any new boarders at the house this week?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Not yet. Hopefully someone passing through will be willing to pay for a couple of nights.”

“And your dad?”

“Still barely moved from his chair. He hasn’t even put on pants.” Jeremy blew a lock of hair away from his pale eyes as he sat down across from Michael. “Between mom leaving him, and losing his job, he hasn’t been doing so well.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Michael propped his head in one hand. “He’ll get better though, I’m sure. He just needs a little more time.”

“I hope so.”

Michael smiled, the easy-going expression helping to put Jeremy at ease. “Don’t worry about it, buddy. Until he gets back on his feet, just let me know if you need anything. Alright?”

Jeremy found himself smiling back, and nodded his head in agreement. “Same goes to you, Mikey.”

“Yeah, I know.” He hummed. “Hey, by the way, how are things going with that girl from the soup kitchen?”

“Christine?” Jeremy perked up just the slightest bit as he said her name, a little sparkle in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, her! Have you worked up the nerve to talk to her yet?”

“I. Um. I tried, the other day. You know, Dad and I had some extra potatoes from the garden out back that I thought she’d be able to use. B-but I chickened out when I tried to ask if she’d want them.”

“Aw, man,” Michael shook his head.

Jeremy felt his face heating up. His cheeks were probably an unsightly shade of red, broadcasting his embarrassment to the world. “I know, I know. But, hey! A-at least I was able to make it to the soup kitchen with the potatoes. That’s progress!”

Michael snorted. “Yeah, you’re right. Good luck, Jer. Maybe you’ll be able to talk to her next time.” He stood from his seat. “But, I gotta get goin’. Family needs all the help it can get, you know?”

“Thanks, Michael. And get home safe alright?” Jeremy stood after him, walking Michael to the door. “I’ll see you around!”

“You know it!” Michael called over his shoulder, waving goodbye as he made his way across the yard and down the street.

Jeremy watched him go until he was out of sight, before closing the door. Times might have been tough, but at least he had his best friend.

~~~~~~______~~~~~~______~~~~~~

Michael’s little pep talk had given Jeremy enough courage to try to talk to Christine again. He could do this. Yeah, he could _totally_ do this. So he grabbed a bag and went out back, scouring through the garden for a few more potatoes and some carrots that he could take in an attempt to start a conversation. With a small nod of self assurance, he stepped out the front door and made his way down town.

The walk was filled with the usual sights. The destitute hung back in the alleys or sat on porch steps, asking for money or scraps- neither of which Jeremy was fond of giving up. For sale signs in the yards of houses that no one could afford and boarded up businesses painted a sad picture as Jeremy continued to walk farther into town. Only three short years ago, the town had been thriving and prosperous. It made Jeremy’s chest ache to see how devastating the effects of the failed economy were.

Among the typical pedestrians and beggars on the street, however, something caught his eye. Or rather, some _one_. Two someones. Jeremy paused mid-stride to observe the pair, eyebrows raised at their appearance. One was short, his well tailored, grey suit and red hat standing out in sharp relief against the ragged cityscape around him. Another man stood to the right of the first, significantly taller though just as well dressed in a deep green sportcoat and black slacks. They were both standing under the awning of a closed shop, heads leaned in together as they spoke. The one in the red hat looked up and locked eyes with Jeremy. A stormy expression passed over his face, and he beckoned Jeremy across the street to join them.

“Ay, you, c’mere.”

Jeremy felt his pulse skyrocket, and he swallowed thickly. “Me?”

“No, the fuckin’ brick wall behind you. _Yes_ you, tall-ass, get a move on!”

Well. Jeremy wasn’t going to argue with that. He crossed the street quickly, stopping a few feet from the pair of strangers. “Uh. Hi? C-can I help you two with anything?”

“You know anywhere to rent a room around here?”

“Oh, uh- I mean- yes! My dad and I run a boarding house on the other side of town.” Jeremy informed the duo. He quickly regretted that decision when the taller of the pair bent down to whisper something to the shorter one.

“Yeah yeah,” The shorter man waved off his companion and looked at Jeremy, eyes scanning him from head to toe and back again. “You got a free room?”

“Y-yes.”

“Keep it that way.” The short one extended a hand, which Jeremy hesitantly shook. “Name’s Rich. An’ my friend here is Samuel. We’ll be sending someone by your place. A friend. He needs a place to stay for awhile.”

“Oh, uh, sure! That’s great, we’ll gladly set him up with a room. The house is on Rampart Road. It’s right across from the old one with all the junk in the yard. Hard to miss.” A pause. “O-oh, and I’m Jeremy, by the way. Jeremy Heere.”

“Got it.” Rich grinned, and something in the expression made Jeremy’s gut knot up uncomfortably. “We’ll be seein’ ya Jeremy. Have a nice day.”

“Um. Y...you too,” Jeremy responded in kind, quickly turning on his heel and rushing back home. So much for talking to Christine.


	2. Two

Jeremy paced the living room for what felt like hours, replaying the conversation on the street over and over again in his head. The more he agonized over it, the more he felt like opening his home to this mystery guest was a bad, _bad_ idea. Times were tough though, and money was money. If Rich’s ‘friend’ came to ask for a room, Jeremy knew he’d give him one. Turning away a paying customer was like committing suicide these days.

For all his worrying and planning, Jeremy still wasn’t ready for the strong, even knocking on his front door that evening.

“Okay Jer. Just open the door. You can do this. It’ll be fine. Just like any other person looking to rent a room.” He pulled open the door and quickly threw on a smile, looking up into the face of the stranger on his door step. The first feature he noticed caught him off guard. Startlingly bright blue eyes seemed to bore into Jeremy’s very soul, leaving him speechless for a long moment.

“Jeremy Heere.” It wasn’t a question. The man’s smooth, sonorous tenor snapped Jeremy out of his stupor.

“Uh, yes! Yes, that’s me. Please, come in. Are you the friend that Rich told me about this afternoon?” He scanned his new houseguest as he posed the question, taking in the mess of dark hair and the midnight blue suit he wore. He was just as fancy as Rich and Samuel had been. The fact made him a little uncomfortable, for some reason.

“That I am. My name is Sylvester.” Sylvester shed his suit jacket as he spoke, hanging it on the rack by the door. “I’ll need a room for the foreseeable future.”

“Sure thing. Right this way.” Jeremy lead Sylvester up the stairs, passed his bedroom and his father’s, to the first available room on the second story. “Here you go. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be up for a little while longer, at least.”

“Of course.” Sylvester’s voice had an oddly soothing quality to it. Jeremy felt like, if they had a long enough conversation, the man would be able to put him to sleep. “Thank you for your hospitality Jeremy. I will try not to cause you any problems while I’m here.”

Unsure of what to say to _that_ , Jeremy merely nodded at first. “Thank you? Uh, have a nice evening, Sylvester.”

“You too, Jeremy.”

Jeremy made his way back down the hall towards the staircase, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about Sylvester just didn’t seem right. He walked with an air of confidence and authority that most people- Jeremy especially- just didn’t have. If Jeremy didn’t know better, he would have said there was something almost inhuman in the way Sylvester carried himself. But, well, that was just silly.

With a shake of his head, Jeremy went to go check that the doors and windows were locked up for the night. As he double checked the bolt on the door and the latches on the windows, his thoughts continued to swirl. Surely Sylvester was just another average everyday person. Jeremy was just overthinking things, letting his mind run off with him like he usually did. Yeah. There was nothing to worry about. Sylvester was just another boarder. Maybe a little on the wealthy side, somehow, judging by the suit. But still just like every other person in Metuchen, Jeremy assured himself as he finished locking up and went to bed.

~~~~~~______~~~~~~______~~~~~~

In the morning, Jeremy was awoken by a harsh banging on the front door. With a groan, he slumped down the stairs, still in his pajamas, and pulled it open. “Can I help y-” The question died on his lips at the sight of two police officers standing on his porch. “O-oh! Um, good morning o-officers,” He stepped back, watching as the pair entered his house. “What brings you by today?”

“G’morning Mr. Heere,” The officer’s voice was gruff. “We need to ask you a couple of questions.”

“S-sure, sure. What about?”

“Some people down town saw you talkin’ to some suspicious individuals yesterday. Were they friends of yours, Mr. Heere?”

Jeremy shook his head, “No! No, they were asking if I knew anywhere that was renting rooms, is all. Lucky coincidence, huh?”

“I’m sure.” The officer’s dry reply made Jeremy’s skin prickle with nerves. “And did either of them look like this?” He motioned to his partner, who unfolded two sheets of paper from his pocket and gave them to Jeremy.

Jeremy Heere took one look at the papers in his hand and felt his heart stop in his chest. They were wanted posters. Two familiar faces stared up at him from separate pages, but it was the names below them that made his veins fill with dread. Samuel Quinn Ipkovich and Sylvester Quentin Ipkovich, wanted for four bank robberies, seven cases of arson, and at least ten counts of murder. Jeremy had come face to face with the heads of the Ipkovich gang. One of them was upstairs, sleeping in his guest room. Holy shit. Quickly, he held the papers back out to the policemen, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, no. I haven’t spoken with either of those men.” The lie felt like ash on his tongue, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell the truth. Then it would be his house up in flames, and Jeremy couldn’t afford to lose his only source of income. “If I see them, I’ll let you know officers. You have my word.”

“You’re sure you haven’t seen them?”

“Very,” Jeremy stated firmly. “I’d remember if any new faces in town looked like that.”

The officers shared a look, before shrugging at each other. “Well, thank you for your time then Mr. Heere. If you see anything suspicious, let us know.”

“Of course,” Jeremy smiled, though the expression was weak as he guided the two policemen out the door. Once it clicked shut behind them, Jeremy heard the sharp _ahem_ of a throat being cleared from across the room.

An icy claw of fear dragged itself down his spine, making his muscles tense uncomfortably as he turned around. Sylvester stood in the doorway, dressed in the same midnight blue suit he’d been in the evening before. Jeremy watched Sylvester stride across the room towards him and retrieve his suit jacket from the coat rack, slipping it on in silence. Just as Jeremy was beginning to relax, however, Sylvester pulled a gun from the inner lining of the jacket, aiming it right between Jeremy’s eyes.

“You’ve been incredibly hospitable, but I should be going,” Sylvester’s tone was nonchalant as he pulled back the hammer on the gun. “Thank you, Jeremy Heere.”


	3. Three

“W-wait!” Jeremy desperately met Sylvester’s eyes. “I-I lied for you,” He hurried to explain. “I won’t tell a soul-”

“Of course you won’t. Dead men tell no tales, Jeremy.”

“ _ Fuck _ , please, there’s got to be something I can do to make you reconsider!”

Sylvester scoffed, but much to Jeremy’s relief he did lower the gun a fraction. “What could a pathetic excuse for a human being like  _ you _ be able to offer  _ me _ ?”

“Uh- um-” Jeremy needed to think of something fast, or his entrance hall was going to get a new paint job. “I-I can help you?” He swallowed, trying to make his warbling voice sound more authoritative. “Yeah! I can help you! You’re a gangster, right? You can’t show your face a lot of places. But I’m just an ordinary guy! L-let me go places for you and, uh, the other gang members?”

“You want to be an informant.” Sylvester didn’t sound very on board with the idea.

“Yeah, like a spy, right? I can do that!” Jeremy took a deep breath, trying to fight the vice grip that his panic had on his heart and lungs. “No one really notices me. I’ll be great for- for that!”

A thoughtful expression crossed Sylvester’s face and he un-cocked the gun. His eyes sparkled with something devious as slid the weapon back into its hidden holster and extended a hand to Jeremy. “You have yourself a deal, Jeremy Heere.”

Almost dizzy from relief, Jeremy clasped Sylvester’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

Sylvester flashed him a toothy grin. “Yes, yes it is.” He turned on his heel and made his way back to the kitchen, plucking a pencil and a scrap of paper from off the countertop. Jeremy followed with caution, jumping back a step when Sylvester turned and held out the paper. “There’s another boarding house across town. My brother and his entourage are staying there. Take this to him.”

Jeremy carefully grabbed the paper and nodded. If it was across town, then it was probably the old Dillinger place. It’d been empty for years; no one was surprised when the city seized the property and turned it into a boarding house after the crash. “Across town. Got it.” He rushed up to his room, throwing on some clean clothes and grabbing a jacket for the walk. Mid-autumn in Metuchen was always outrageously cold, he’d need it.

“Oh, and Jeremy?”

“Yes?” Jeremy paused in the doorway, turning to see Sylvester behind him, holding out a small stack of bills.

“Go buy a new suit first. You look terrible.”

Taking the money and tucking it into his pocket with the note, Jeremy stepped out into the chilly air. He squared his shoulders as he walked, trying to copy the seemingly effortless confidence that Sylvester exuded when he moved. “You can do this, Jer. You got this,” He mumbled to himself as he made his way downtown.

Thankfully, the little clothing shop in town had managed to stay open despite the hard times. Jeremy pushed the store’s front door open and stepped inside, immediately feeling out of place amongst all the clothes that he usually couldn’t afford. Taking a deep breath, he started wandering the store in hopes that something would catch his eye. On a rack towards the rear of the store, his eyes fell on a suit that he thought might look good enough. It was a dark grey, pinstriped in the same deep blue that Sylvester sported.

With a shrug, Jeremy checked the size and took it up to the counter, fishing out the wad of bills that Sylvester had given him.

“Jerry?”

The lilt of a female voice made him clam up instantaneously. Oh shit. “Er, it’s Jeremy,” He corrected, turning to face the girl that had addressed him. Chloe Valentine was leaning in the doorframe, one eyebrow raised at his presence. Her friend, Brooke, stood just inside the doorway, wearing the same look of incredulous surprise.

“You shop here?” Chloe asked, pushing off the doorframe to approach him. Brooke followed at her heels.

“Uh. Y- er, no? Not really.” Jeremy had already lied once today, he really didn’t want to do it again. “Oh, um. Hello Brooke,” He bit the inside of his cheek nervously. “You look very pretty today?”

“So Jerry. What’s that suit for, huh?” Chloe cut in, pulling Jeremy’s attention back to her before Brooke could respond.

Well shit. He couldn’t exactly tell Chloe the truth could he? “Uh… Well, y’see…” He swallowed, his stomach tying itself in knots as his face flushed. “I um. I thought if I dressed up a little, Madeline might want to talk to me again! Yeah. Um. I asked her out, awhile back, but we didn’t really work out.”

“Oh,” Brooke spoke up, sounding a little sad for Jeremy, “Why not?”

“She cheated on me!” He blurted out, ducking his head. He wanted to leave before this conversation went any farther and he had to tell any more lies. They made him sick to his stomach.

Brooke made a small, sympathetic sound and reached out to touch Jeremy’s arm. “I understand what that’s like,” she told him. “...Why don’t you come with us for the rest of the day?”

Wait, what?

“We’re going to meet up with some friends,” Brooke continued, “You should join the fun.” She winked, and Jeremy practically felt his brain short circuit.

“I. I-I have to meet up with Michael, actually-” He stammered, trying to come up with any excuse to say no.

“C’mon,” she pouted, turning wide, blue eyes on Jeremy with a kicked puppy expression.

“Just for a little while,” Chloe tacked on. “We’re going to the Dillinger house to meet up with Jenna and Katrina. You can at least walk with us there, can’t you?”

The Dillinger house? Well… if he was heading there anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to walk with Chloe and Brooke. Would it? “Um. Yeah, alright. I’ll walk you ladies there, I guess.”

Brooke grabbed his free hand, her smile positively beaming. “Great! Then let’s go.” As she dragged Jeremy from the store, his gaze turned skyward. Lord have mercy, what was he getting himself into?


End file.
